


Wholesome memes for your wizarding Minecraft server

by Arualiaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (mostly) everyone's alive and nothing hurts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Fluff and Humor, Gamer AU - Freeform, M/M, Minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-16 13:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18692617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arualiaa/pseuds/Arualiaa
Summary: Harry meets another wizard in the most unlikely of places: Minecraft. His summer is wonderful, and yet he's more excited than ever to go back to school.Will he uncover this mysterious Lord_Voldemort's identity, all the while hiding from the most infuriating Prefect in the history of Hogwarts, Tom Riddle?





	Wholesome memes for your wizarding Minecraft server

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eurasian_Lynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eurasian_Lynx/gifts).



> Crack prompt fill turned semi-serious: "When your school bully approaches so you send one last text to your Minecraft girlfriend and his phone buzzes"
> 
> For a better reading experience, I recommend downloading the fonts “Ink free” and “Brush Script MS” for Harry and Tom’s respective handwriting!

Harry couldn’t believe his luck. He really couldn’t.

His laptop had been a Christmas present from his mum so he would feel a bit more connected to the muggle part of his heritage even if he was wizard-raised, and he absolutely loved it. He dove right into social media, begrudgingly watched the documentaries Hermione sent him over MSN, and played video games.

It was the summer of 2010, and life felt good.

Mostly, because he’d gotten a hot new game as an early birthday gift.

Minecraft was unlike Harry had ever seen before. He could get lost in his own creations, explore other people’s maps, and honestly? It felt a little bit like magic. Like conjuring something out of nothing.

And the servers. Harry could play with actual people. It was new and exciting, and so he immediately joined one that encouraged its users to create and share with others.

Freedonia. He couldn’t think of a more apt name.

It was on that server, hard at work to try and replicate Hogwarts, that he met Lord_Voldemort.

He’d asked him what he was building, and Harry’d said it was just a castle. When he’d offered help, Harry’d been a bit sullen. Yeah, he enjoyed the community, but he didn’t want someone else tampering with Hogwarts’ beauty.

He’d been flabbergasted, then, when Lord_Voldemort had picked right off, even _correcting_ some of his previous build. It was accurate. It was perfect.

They became fast friends, and Harry asked for his MSN not long after.

His heart sank a bit when he saw the bloke’s profile picture was of a snake.

Goldenwings: oh god please don’t tell me you’re a slytherin

Lord_Voldemort: Breaking the Statute of Secrecy so soon? How bold of you. Gryffindor, then?

Goldenwings: oh bloody hell i already know you’re a wizard, it was obvious when you helped me build hogwarts

Lord_Voldemort: So would you say we’re the… Founders of Minecraft Hogwarts, now?

Harry had snorted into his fist. Hard.

Goldenwings: you’re amazing forget i said anything about slytherin

Goldenwings: not like they’d play minecraft anyway

Lord_Voldemort: There is not only purebloods there, you know. I am taking great offense.

Lord_Voldemort: I am also taking offense in you not appreciating just how gorgeous my familiar is. Just look at her.

Goldenwings: i AM looking at her. i dunno, she’s… a snake? pretty, as far as snakes go. what’s her name?

Lord_Voldemort: Nagini. She’s a corn snake, harmless, but I have to keep her a secret.

Goldenwings: because snakes aren’t allowed, right?

Lord_Voldemort: Precisely. It’s a shame, though. She always gets curious about other people, and I have to hush her and keep her in my pocket.

Lord_Voldemort: If you’re still at Hogwarts, I could let you see her, perhaps.

Goldenwings: that sounds like innuendo lol

Goldenwings: “oi, fancy seeing the snake in my robes?”

Lord_Voldemort: bjejsjajsjajabdbshsjdhghgggggggg

Goldenwings: what was that?

Lord_Voldemort: That was me, banging my head against the keyboard. Salazar I am in PUBLIC

Goldenwings: ooo kinky

Goldenwings: so you have a laptop?

Lord_Voldemort: No, I play from a cyber-café.

Goldenwings: wow that’s so old school

Goldenwings: i bet everyone’s looking at you funny if you hit your head against the keyboard lol

Lord_Voldemort: Do not remind me, it’s your fault!

They settled into a comfortable routine after that. Voldemort had been truthful: Harry started noticing he only went online for an hour at a time, and twice a day at most.

Goldenwings: hey voldy? i was wondering

Lord_Voldemort: I was also wondering. Specifically, why you still insist on calling me that. It’s ridiculous.

Goldenwings: oh, should i call you my liege, your lordship?

Lord_Voldemort: For all you know, I could be an Heir of a Most Pure and Ancient House.

Goldenwings: playing minecraft at a cyber-café? not bloody likely. besides, i think one of the requirements for being a pureblood heir is being a complete twat.

Lord_Voldemort: And you think I’m not?

Goldenwings: if you were i would have made it pretty clear :P

Lord_Voldemort: Ah, Gryffindors. I almost forgot.

Goldenwings: learn to take a compliment, voldy. besides, i was wondering, if you’d let me finish, if i could owl you something

Lord_Voldemort: …what?

Goldenwings: it’s just, you’re not online very often, right? so, i thought. my dad and his friends used to communicate using the protean charm all the time

Goldenwings: so i could send you a charmed piece of parchment and we could chat over there when you’re not online?

Goldenwings: it buzzes slightly like a phone when you’re contacted. it’s my friend who did most of the work honestly, but i came up with the idea. they’re only two-way and you can even colour-code them so you know which one’s which!

Lord_Voldemort: That is… rather clever, actually. Which colour will you pick for me, I wonder?

Goldenwings: slytherin green, of course.

Lord_Voldemort: Then mine should be red, it’s only fitting.

Goldenwings: so you’re actually up for it? brilliant!!! where should i send it?

Voldemort gave him a London address he was pretty sure was a public park. Google confirmed it. Leave it to a Slytherin to be careful about internet safety, Harry huffed fondly.

Hours after he’d sent Hedwig on her merry way, the green parchment on his desk gave a gentle buzz. Elegant calligraphy appeared on it, and briefly he wondered if Voldemort was actually a girl. The ink appeared to be from a ballpoint pen, he noticed absently.

‘Hello?’

Harry replied in his messy scrawl, excitedly.

‘Is that really you? What happened to Ravenclaw tower?’

‘You flooded it with lava and ruined my bookshelf placement. I still resent that.’

Harry’s face split open with a grin.

‘It really is you, Voldy! Tbh, I didn’t know if it would work. I’ve only done the spellwork with help before. Anyway, how’d you like my familiar?’

'A gorgeous owl, if a bit snappy. It demanded treats.’

‘I think I spoiled her a bit, yeah, sorry about that. Her name’s Hedwig.’

'She tried to steal my familiar’s treats. Nagini was furious.’ The text was accompanied by a pretty good drawing of an angry snake, dwarfed by an indignant and very much bigger Hedwig. A mouse stood between them. The resemblance was accurate enough to tell it _was_ his owl even without the white feathers.

‘Hey, I didn’t know you could draw so well!’

'And I didn’t know Gryffindors could have sneaky forms of communication, and yet here we are.’

‘Oh, you really have no idea what we get up to.’

 

* * *

 

Summer passed comfortably between writing to Voldemort, playing Minecraft,  messaging Hermione, and visiting the Weasleys to play some Quidditch.

It was a bit embarrassing, however, when Mrs. Bagshot saw him responding on the green parchment and asked him if he was writing to his girlfriend. She must have seen something in his face, because she left without getting an answer, only shooting him a knowing look.

Merlin, was it _that_ obvious that he was starting to crush on the bloke?

“So, Harry,” said Sirius, one day when he was over for lunch with Remus. “When are you gonna introduce us to the lucky person, huh?”

His face must have been as red as his mum’s hair. “ _Sirius_!” He yelped, as his dad watched him curiously.

“You never said you were dating someone.”

“Honestly James, you’re as dense as a brick wall,” his mum said. “He’s been looking smitten for weeks now, writing in that parchment.”

Harry wished the chair would engulf him and make him disappear.

“So, a bloke or a bird?”

“Sirius, don’t be crude,” the werewolf chided, elbowing his husband hard.

“What? Just asking.”

“A bloke,” Harry stammered. “But we’re not dating! We don’t even know each other’s real names, Merlin’s knickers!”

“Language,” his mum said absently.

“He doesn’t know,” he continued. “Besides, dad wouldn’t approve.”

His dad frowned, looking a bit hurt. “What do you mean? You know your mother and I support you, Harry. Look at these two dunces over here,” he said teasingly, pointing at Sirius and Remus. “They are both bisexual, and married. To each other. And you know Peter doesn’t care for relationships at all. Why in Godric’s name wouldn’t I approve, Harry?”

He shrunk into his seat. “Exactly,” he mumbled. “He’s a Slytherin, dad.”

The three Marauders present shared a look. His mum shot a warning glance at his dad, and he withered.

“But Lily…”

“No, don’t you _but Lily_ me, James. You and the others become insufferable when Severus visits.” She looked at Remus, pointing at Sirius. “Put a a muzzle on him when Harry’s boyfriend is around.”

“He’s not even my boyfriend yet, mum!”

“Yet?” She smiled, knowingly. Harry felt his cheeks burning hot.

“Merlin, this is really happening,” Sirius muttered, looking somewhere between shocked and amused. “My godson has the hots for one of Snivellus’ boys.”

“ _Sirius_ ,” mum said, and when Sirius grinned apologetically, she shoved him slightly. “No, your boyish charm doesn’t work on me. We’re both married, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Paddy, stop flirting with my wife. Flirt with me instead.”

“ _James_!”

What had Harry ever done in another life to deserve a family like his? It must have been either very good, or very bad, he couldn’t tell.

 

* * *

 

It felt like summer passed in a breeze, and his heart felt aflutter when he got ready to go to King’s Cross. It wasn’t just meeting his friends and going back to his usual Hogwarts antics he was excited about: no, he wondered if he’d actually meet Voldemort.

It felt like a blind date, almost. He wondered if Hedwig would give him away, but other students had snowy owls.

Finding Voldemort was just a Hogwarts mystery he couldn’t wait to solve.

 

* * *

 

“Oi, mate. You’ll never guess who’s Slytherin prefect this year,” Ron said around a mouthful of cauldron cake, but his face said it all.

“Oh no. Oh no. Tell me it’s not Malfoy.”

“Ha, I wish!” He finished eating, his face contorting into a horrified expression. “It’s _Riddle_.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry breathed. This was bad. This was going the be the worst Hogwarts year ever. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“He’s not, you can go and check the Prefects’ carriage,” Hermione said suddenly, barging through the door and sitting with a huff. Her own badge shone brightly on her chest.

“What are you doin’ here, ‘Mione? Shouldn’t you be with ‘em?” Ron asked, around another mouthful of cake.

“Swallow,” she chided, but her tone became dreadful. “You know I can’t _stand_ to be in the same room as him, the insufferable- argh!”

Tom Riddle and Hermione had been academic rivals ever since first year. Always at each other’s throats, competing for the top grades.

The only class they weren’t rivals in was Defence. Harry took to that class with a burning passion, and it also helped that Remus — Professor Lupin in public — was the teacher. Some had accused him of favoritism, but when Harry had been the youngest student recorded to successfully perform a corporeal Patronus Charm at thirteen, no one had questioned the talent and hard work he put into it.

He had the top grades, sometimes second, but they flickered constantly. Hermione took her third place with grace, relishing in the fact that her rival couldn’t cast the same charm that had put Harry in the spotlight.

And suddenly, he found himself in Riddle’s radar, because the bastard couldn’t _handle_ not being the best at something. Harry hadn’t cared about the little feud he had with Hermione at first, but the git had gone out of his way to make an enemy out of him.

And now he held _power_. What the hell would he do with it? He could give Harry detention for no reason.

No, thought Harry. This wasn’t going to be a good year.

Well, at least he had his friends and Voldemort. And with this whole Riddle business, they weren’t teasing him about it anymore, thank Morgana.

“So mate, you and that snake…” Ron drawled, with an impish grin.

Oh fuck him sideways with a broomstick, there it was.

 

* * *

 

'So how’s everything at the Lions’ Den?’

Harry groaned miserably, dipping his quill in ink. Voldemort’s writing was even better with a quill, it looked picture-perfect.

‘Awful. Not because of Gryffindor, mind you. Here’s about as safe as it gets.’

'Awful? I’ve had a pretty good first week so far.’

Of course he did. Riddle wouldn’t target _him_.

‘I honestly don’t know how you can stand to be in Slytherin. It sounds like torture.’

A pause.

'It’s not so bad. The sounds from the Black Lake are pretty comforting, actually.’

‘Yes, yes. I know the common room’s cozy with the water making the light green and all, I mean the people. Aside from you, of course.’

'Wait. Golden, how do you know what the Slytherin common room looks like?’

Aw, shite.

‘Well, uh… don’t tell, okay?’

'Not a soul.’

‘My friends and I sneaked in once, to play a prank on someone.’

A couple of ink drops appeared on the parchment.

'Oh my god. YOU WERE THE ONES WHO PRANKED DRACO IN SECOND YEAR? THAT WAS THE FUNNIEST THING I CAN REMEMBER FROM THAT YEAR. Now I definitely need to meet you.’

Wow. _Wow!_ He hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic response. In all caps, even! He’d never seen Voldemort’s calligraphy so messy,

So… excited. Harry flushed deeply.

‘It wasn’t that impressive, really…’

'His hair was rainbow for a month. How did you even brew that potion in second year?’

‘Lion’s secret ;) Bloody hell, if I knew you didn’t like Malfoy I wouldn’t have held back. Sometimes my best mate and I pass the time doodling him in ridiculous ways.’

'Sounds like you have a lot of free time. I… am neutral towards Draco, personally. He’s a prat with the ego of a peacock, but he is… alright, sometimes. Seldom. Usually when he wants something from you.’

‘Classic Malfoy,’ Harry wrote, rolling his eyes. He illustrated it with a quick doodle. And then, as an afterthought, he added a crude drawing of Draco’s face with a fanning peacock tail behind him. ‘Sounds like you’re surrounded by gits. We could sneak you into Gryffindor tower sometime, you know?’

'It sounds a bit… overwhelming. You lot are loud.’

Oh. He’d never thought Voldemort would be an introvert.

‘Sometimes, yeah. But late at night it’s just chess and talking, that sort of stuff.’

'Are we suggesting to break curfew now, Golden Boy? How devious.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it, your Lordship.’ He snickered. ‘In all seriousness though, it’s not like we’d get caught. Not by the prefects, and not even by Mrs. Norris.’

'Lion’s secret, I’m guessing?’

‘Lion’s secret, yes. ;)’

Well, more like Potter’s secret, Harry thought with a smirk, eyeing his trunk where his Cloak was.

 

* * *

 

Harry was at the library. Not his natural habitat, he knew, but he had a potions essay to write and Uncle Se— _Professor Snape_ wouldn’t give him a sodding break.

He knew it was because his dad had charmed his peas so they’d roll away every time he tried to grab them with the fork, when he’d stayed for supper right before Hogwarts.

His mum was still cross with him, but Severus was cross with _Harry_. Grumbling under his breath at the unfairness of it all, Harry continued his essay, scrambling to do some research. He couldn’t get Hermione’s help now, and Ron was hopeless at potions.

Every now and then he stared longingly at the parchment, he’d charmed it so it’d look plain and colourless, like he was using it to take notes.

“Potter, I’m closing the library. Get out of here before curfew,” Madam Pince said sternly, breaking him out of his reverie.

Curfew? _Shite_. He’d never been one to take rules seriously, but he had a reason to fear curfew now.

Riddle was prowling the hallways like a fucking basilisk, ready to give detention to anyone he caught. And if anyone from Gryffindor lost any more points because of him, Harry was sure Professor McGonagall was going to snap and strangle someone. Especially Harry. Riddle always deducted points from Harry.

Scrambling to get all his belongings together, he scurried out the library, uncaring that he’d left his potions essay unfinished. He’d have to pull an all-nighter in the commons, maybe wing it, make things up along the way without the books he’d been too quick to leave to think about borrowing.

He was fucked.

Casting a Tempus, he saw it was already curfew.

Oh, he was so fucked.

And when he heard the distinctive footsteps (because no one else in this sodding school had such a perfect gait, such poise, that aura of charisma) approaching, Harry knew he was _triple fucked_.

So he ducked slightly into a running position, and _sprinted_ down the hallway.

The Cloak, the Cloak. He always had it on him. Just turn around the corner, and—

He was shrouded in safety. Phew.

Riddle had been hot on his heels, and when he saw no one, he drew his wand. “Potter, I know you are here. I can be charitable, you know?” He drawled, walking leisurely, putting on a show. He knew Harry was most likely hidden somewhere and watching, the git. “I will only deduct points if you come out now. You won’t have detention again, so soon after this week’s.”

Liar, Harry wanted to hiss. He knew Riddle enough to be sure he’d do both.

Instead, perhaps in an act of insanity, he silently reached for his parchment and a pencil, not trusting himself with ink.

‘Voldy, I’m about to die. I’m just writing to let you know my last will and testament. I’m leaving you my Minecraft account, I have a stack of diamonds in my inventory. Go craft yourself some armor and a sword and avenge me, you magnificent bastard. McGonagall is gonna kill me, if someone else doesn’t get to me first.’

He just wanted some reassurance, because Riddle was resembling a basilisk more and more, if human looks could kill. His smile was venomous, sadistic—

“Ah, shite!” The illusion was broken as Riddle scrambled to palm something in his robe pockets, not looking as deadly now. He… seemed a bit flustered, actually. He hadn’t heard Riddle curse a single time in five long years.

Harry could swear he’d almost heard something rumble. But it had to be his imagination, right?

Until he pulled out a familiar, _all too familiar_ piece of red parchment, and a self-refilling quill.

Harry’s heart sank so low he swore he could hear it drop. Morgana’s sagging tits, no—

His parchment buzzed in his hands, and dully, he noted how neat the handwriting was despite him being in a hurry and writing with only his palm as support.

'I’m kind of busy right now. What have you gotten yourself into this time?’

And Riddle stared, transfixed, in his direction. He’d heard the rumble.

‘Bloody hell.’

 _Bzzzt_.

Harry’s heart thundered, blood roaring in his ears. It couldn’t possibly be…

“Gotcha,” Riddle murmured, thrusting his hand forward blindly, and touching his very solid form under the Cloak.

Just above his traitorous heart, because Lady Luck was feeling just _that_ bit more vindictive today.

He felt his Cloak being pulled away from him, and suddenly he was laid bare for Riddle, Voldemort, to see. His face felt warm, and his hands were still clutching the parchment dumbly.

“I always knew you were a devious one, Golden Boy,” he drawled again, and somehow his smirk wasn’t entirely unpleasant now. It was doing strange things to his stomach, but it was probably because he was using their nickname, the arsehole, the absolute bastard— “So this is the Lion’s secret, huh.”

“Give it back, it’s a heirloom,” Harry stammered, pocketing the parchment so he’d have his hands free. His face was on fire, he knew it, goddamn it—

“Maybe in exchange for those diamonds,” Riddle mused, pretending to think about it with a finger resting on his chin and a considering look. “Or should I kill you first to get that out of your will?”

He’d fallen for his personality. He knew there was a soft, funny, snarky side in Riddle now, and he absolutely _hated_ that he could put his handsome face (not looking so cruel now) next to that personality.

 _You’re already killing me,_ Harry wanted to say.

“Get bent,” Harry said instead, trying to preserve some of his dignity. But Riddle only grinned.

“I think that merits detention, Mr. Potter. Right now.” The Slytherin grabbed his wrist and dragged him to an empty classroom. When Harry was about to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, he was suddenly pushed against a wall.

There was a hungry look in those dark eyes, and Harry didn’t even think about it.

Their lips met halfway, both having moved at the same time, with the same sharp reflexes they used to duel. There was nothing gentle about it, like Harry had imagined at first. It was needy, desperate, rough, and he wanted _more_ of it.

His hands were still carded in those infuriatingly perfect curls, when they pulled away panting.

“That’s…abusing…your power…” Harry said breathlessly, his chest heaving and pulse racing.

“Don’t care,” Riddle said in between sharp lungfuls of air.

And then they were kissing again, and Harry bit on Riddle’s lips enough to hurt and make him gasp, and the moment their tongues touched was _electric_. More, more, more. He didn’t know how much he needed it like this until now. Fuck gentle. Fuck everything else in the world.

And they pulled away once more, and Harry was starting to feel light-headed. One of his hands was still firmly grasping Riddle’s hair, while the other was clutching the front of his robes for some support.

Riddle’s lip was bleeding, a little bit. He seemed to notice, and licked he droplet away.

Merlin, that was hot.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Riddle said, still a bit out of breath.

“Before, or after you knew who I was?”

“Both,” he said, and now Harry could see his cheeks were also flushed, lips swollen and parting to exhale little puffs of air. His hair looked disheveled.

It was the exact opposite of the image Riddle had presented to the world for years, and his traitorous pulse quickened at the thought that he’d been the one to do that to him.

Fuck…

“You’re so bloody infuriating,” Riddle practically growled, pressing a kiss to his throat. “And wonderful,” another kiss, and Harry had to stifle a noise, but the other could feel it with the way his lips were pressed against his windpipe.

“If you keep this up,” Harry said, gripping his hair right. “I’m going to have a _problem_ , very soon.”

“Nothing a Prefect can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“You’re on a fantastic power trip, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Riddle grinned unapologetically, before kissing him again.

And then, something stirred between them. Harry’s flush crawled all the way back to his neck, and Riddle pulled away.

“Wow, is that a snake, or are you _that_ happy to give me detention?”

“N-no, that is…” Seeing the Slytherin flustered was absolutely adorable. “My, I assure you, _literal_ snake.”

And then he hissed something, and Merlin’s wrinkly _nutsack_ , Harry thought.

He might not just be about to date a Slytherin. He was a _Parselmouth_.

A tiny tongue flickered out of his robes’ pocket, followed by a triangular head, and beady, curious eyes. “Harry, meet Nagini.”

 

* * *

 

“Harry, you didn’t say _she_ was going to be a part of the LAN party,” Tom said, almost pouting.

Harry felt like his mum, when she had to deal with Severus and dad. “Well, who else would it be? Ron, who doesn’t know how a landline works?”

“I will let you know, Riddle, that I procured some copies from the Restricted Section of the library that will make your Hogwarts _vastly_ superior,” Hermione grinned, smugly placing a stack of what looked like… ¿original concepts of the building? It certainly did not look like that at the moment, Harry thought. It also offered some different perspectives, which the Marauders’ map didn’t.

Tom groaned, and Harry knew his boyfriend was sulking now, the adorable idiot. He pulled out his laptop, a present from Harry from last year’s Christmas, and even when he was distracted being petty with Hermione, he handled it with the utmost care.

He hadn’t wanted it, at first. He said it was too much. His foster family (the one he had at the time, anyway. He changed often) didn’t allow him a computer. Harry had said it was horseshite, and insisted he wouldn’t accept a no for an answer.

Tom couldn’t just spend what little pocket money he had on borrowed time with a computer that wasn’t his, and he was an avid reader, Harry knew. The library was nowhere near his foster house (he’d refused to call it a home) was, and he’d said paying to use the computer was cheaper on the long run than using the bus every time.

But now he didn’t have that conundrum, because Harry had gotten him a laptop that would be his and only his, and there was that.

His dad had sulked, because he’d heard Harry complain about Tom Riddle for _years_ , and that was even before they knew he was a Parselmouth. His mum had simply patted her husband’s hair, saying that he should know better than to think school rivalries didn’t lead to love sometimes. She let him buy the laptop.

And that was what brought them all here, in the room with the least magical saturation in the Potters’ cottage, lost in a world of blocks, and pixels, and-

“Harry, goddammit! You spilled water all over the torches again! I can’t remember what the pattern was now—“

“Five-three-five. Spaces in between, that is,” Hermione reminded him.

Nagini and Hedwig were at the windowsill, basking in the sun. His owl was fast asleep, her head tucked beneath her wing. For a nocturnal being, she sure liked the warmth. Maybe she’d gotten it from Tom’s snake.

“You know what? You two can have the buckets, I don’t wanna accidentally make obsidian again,” Harry said, pressing Q on his keyboard.

Heh, no wonder he was no good at potions.

It was the summer of 2012, and life felt _perfect_.


End file.
